Spiderman dodged and weaved through the maze of tall skyscrapers, doing his best to escape the giant dragon that was chasing him. The reason why the dragon was chasing him, however, escaped our hero. And quite frankly, Spiderman didn't give much of a fuck either.

"Fuck you!" Spiderman shouted back at the dragon, before dodging another wall of flame. He flipped the dragon the bird and cursed at him once more. This angered the dragon greatly, causing the dragon to soar past Spiderman and break his web, sending him plummeting towards the ground far below. Spiderman attempted to shoot out another stream of spiderweb to save himself from plummeting to his death, but found it was all in vain upon discovering something.

Spiderman had forgot how to shot web.

"How do I shot web?!" Spiderman demanded, hoping maybe God would hear him and save his spider ass.

Meanwhile, in heaven, Chuck Norris watched as Spiderman plummeted towards the streets of Badly Animated New York City, a no doubt unfortunate death for our hero.

"How do I shot web?!" Spiderman demanded.

"Lawl I dunno." Chuck Norris responded.

However, that day, Chuck Norris was in a good mood. His son, Black Jesus, had done a good job spreading the word of Old Spice in an alternate universe, so Chuck Norris decided to just say 'what the fuck' and save Spiderman's spider ass.

Spiderman continued to plummet towards the ground at terminal velocity. He knew how it would end for him, for Spiderman had seen the aftermath of people jumping off Badly Drawn New York City's many high rises. All that would be left was a liquid mixture of skin and bodily fluids, as well as some body parts that managed to survive the fall and the remnants of the person's clothes. It was never a pretty sight, but as far as everyone knew, it was a quick and painless death. Not that Spiderman gave a fuck about whether his death was painless or not.

All that Spiderman cared about was the fact he wouldn't be able to fuck Mary Jane anymore. And he wouldn't be able to pleasure trees, and molest Billy anymore.

All in all, Spiderman's life was a good run.

"I guess it's just time to resign to my fate." Spiderman stated, "god damn, how could I forget to shot web at a time like this?"

Suddenly, a small black hole appeared below Spiderman. Before our hero could even blink, he was sucked into it.

Spiderman awoke in what looked like a small village from the 18th century, surrounded by small modest homes and cottages. Sadly for our hero, the buildings were not nearly tall enough for Spiderman to use for swinging around town. Due to this, Spiderman was pretty much grounded.

Upon realizing this, Spiderman sat on the ground and pouted. "This is bullshit," he began to say, "you can't ground Spiderman."

After a few minutes of pouting, our hero finally got over himself and decided to look around. For the first time since his arrival, he noticed that he was not alone. In fact, he was surrounded by pastel colored horses.

"Hay." Spiderman said, before chuckling to himself upon realizing the little pun he said. Because, you know, horses eat hay.

"Hello." one of the horses, a lavender horse with what looked like an erection sticking out of its mane greeted tentatively.

Spiderman blinked and stared at the purple pony. Did she just talk?

"Fuck, I'm high." Spiderman stated coolly, before getting up off the ground.

"Are you lost?" the purple horse with an erection growing out its head asked.

Spiderman regarded the small horse for a second, before putting his hand right in her (guessing by the sound of its voice, it was obviously a girl) and saying, "fuck your hockey game."

The purple horse looked at our hero like he was crazy. "What hockey game?" she asked, confused.

"Lawl I don't know." he responded, "ooga booga where da white wimmin at?"

"...white wimmin?" the horse asked, even more confused, "I think you should come with me."

"Are you a cop?" Spiderman asked, pointing accusingly at the purple horse.

"What? No!" the purple horse responded.

But our hero did not believe her. She smelt like a pig. "Fuck da police!" Spiderman proclaimed, before running away from the talking purple horse. But before he could escape, he felt himself lifted off the ground by some unknown force.

"What is this fuckery?!" Spiderman demanded, as he floated back over the purple horse.

"Would you mind toning down on the language? There are foals around." the purple horse asked, pointing to a group of what Spiderman guessed were horse children.

"Yeah? Well, look up in the sky!" Spiderman shouted, pointing up in the air. The purple horse looked in the direction Spiderman was pointing, but saw nothing.

"There's nothing there." the purple horse pointed out, confused.

"Huh, that's odd. I swear I saw the fuck I gave floating up around in that area." Spiderman stated.

The purple horses jaw dropped. "Stop with the language, for Celestia's sake!"

"Who's Celestia? Is she hot?" Spiderman asked.

The purple horse blushed. "Well... I-I guess so."

Suddenly, Spiderman reached into his spandex pants and started rubbing himself. "Lol sneaky wank."

This earned gasps of shock from the surrounding ponies. Hell, a few ponies barfed, and one even fainted. But our hero didn't give a fuck about that.

Tired of Spiderman's behavior, the purple horse teleported him and herself out of town. After reorienting himself, our hero found himself outside of a small cottage, that smelt of a mixture of animal food and feces.

"What a dump." Spiderman commented. The purple horse rolled her eyes and started knocking her right hoof on the cottages door.

"Fluttershy? It's Twilight! Mind opening up? I have someone I want you to meet." 'Twilight' called out, trying to get the attention of this 'Fluttershy'. Probably some crazy forever alone animal lover from the smell of the place. Spiderman had smelt ghettos that smelt nicer.

Finally, the door slowly creaked open, revealing a small butter yellow horse with a pink mane, small wings, and a tattoo of three pink butterflies on its ass.

"Hello Twilight... who's your friend?" the horse that Spiderman guessed was 'Fluttershy' asked.